


The Battle of Growing Up

by aquarian_sunchild



Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Gen, Swearing, Swordplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 20:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2664611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquarian_sunchild/pseuds/aquarian_sunchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter leaves Neverland in search of adventure, but the biggest adventure he’s ever encountered takes him right back. The question is: Does he belong in Neverland anymore?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this two years ago (wow!) as part of a fic exchange on Livejournal. The prompt I excitedly chose was:  
>  _Peter is the real Peter Pan, not the one someone wrote “that silly book” about, but the real one – the boy who didn’t want to grow up. What is he doing away from Neverland? And why has he chosen to live with the other Monkees? When he gets the chance to fly back to Neverland, will he?_
> 
> So here is the resulting fic! I based it on the original story by JM Barrie, so it's a little darker and more flowery in prose as compared to the Disney version. At least I hope it is.

**“All children, except one, grow up.”—Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie**

**"I’ve noticed in my life that there are two kinds of pain in this life. One is the pain of growing up, and the other is the pain of refusing to grow up." –Peter Tork**

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

There are some children who never have the chance to just be children. They’re the lonely children, the abandoned and abused, the ones who have never known a truly loving touch. One must grow up quite quickly in situations such as these, and the naiveté and aimlessness of being a child is seen as an unacceptable vulnerability.

There is, however, a place where these children will never again know the pain they once endured. They not only have the chance to be children, they have the chance to be children forever. This magical place is called Neverland, and its most famous occupant is at the center of this story.

His name is Peter.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

It seemed too late in the year for mosquitoes to still be about, but it was the only conclusion the lads could find for the tiny stinging sensations they had been feeling recently, as well as the tiny red welts.

Mike twitched as he tried to swat at whatever had bitten him. “I just don’t get it, man! I can’t…ow!…see the dang things but…ah!…they keep getting at me. It’s merciless, whatever it is!”

Micky was secretly breathing a sigh of relief that whatever was biting Mike had decided to leave him alone for the moment. “Clearly this means war. The first thing tomorrow, I’m getting some fly tape and we’re going to show this bug who’s boss. All in favor say ‘ Aye’”.

Davy and Mike responded with very passionate “Ayes”, and the vote was considered unanimous until the boys remembered their bassist was still out.

To be honest, they really had no idea where he’d gone.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Peter loved being in the trees at night. He felt closer to the stars, and could just make out what the smaller ones were whispering to each other. And the redwoods were so old and big, he felt like he was conquering a mountain when he climbed them. It made him feel like a king and a warrior again, if only for a little while.

He heard a rattle of leaves in a nearby redwood. Glancing in front of him, he saw the owl tilt its head in interest at the sight of a young man sitting on a high tree branch. If owls were out, that meant it was later than Peter thought, and that he should be getting back to the Pad before the other Monkees began to worry about him…again.

But the owl hooted a challenge at him. And how could he pass up an offer to race, especially up here in the mighty forest that he had conquered?

He hooted back at the owl, accepting its dare.

Peter was somewhat amazed that he could still fly, after being away from Neverland for so long. Fairy dust must have an incredibly long shelf life. He balanced on his branch, bent his knees and pushed himself forward into the air.

The owl had the advantage of size, and zipped under, over and between the long branches. Peter would not allow the bird to get the best of him though. He grit his teeth as he flew past branches that scratched him and pulled at his clothes. He refused to let the trees knock him out of the air.

Then the owl did something Peter wasn’t expecting. It zipped upward, toward the tops of the trees and toward the open air. Peter flew as closely behind as he could. If he was willing to risk reaching out an arm, he would be able to brush the owl’s wing feathers.

They reached the star-studded sky, and the owl seemed to have given up, deciding instead to circle Peter as if to admit his exhaustion. Peter filled his lungs with air, ready for a victory crow when he heard the youngest stars:

_Peter! Peter Pan! Neverland needs you! The Lost Ones need you! Oh, please hurry Peter Pan!_

This made Peter pause in mid-air. There was no reason for The Lost Ones to need him again. He had gotten rid of the bad guys before he had left the island to go exploring. He had made peace with the Indians, so what was there left to be afraid of?

He shook it off. The stars were notorious for their pranks. This must certainly be another one of them.

He ignored the stars’ pleas for attention as he pointed himself toward the beach where he and his new friends lived. As he flew forward into the dark, he allowed himself one more passing glance at the owl, who had settled on a top branch of a nearby redwood after admitting defeat, or so Peter thought.

The owl looked disappointed. Had Peter not been flying so quickly, he would have heard what had caused the owl’s crestfallen expression.

The stars were weeping in fear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction. I have no intention of smearing JM Barrie's character. Heh.

Peter was immensely grateful to his bandmates for always leaving the window in his and Davy’s room open. He could never remember where the spare key was after he been “out for a walk”, so simply flitting into an open window was far more convenient.

He found David splayed across his bed in their shared room, fighting the urge to drift off into the land of dreams. After quietly turning on his bedside lamp, Peter tried his best to keep from waking Davy, but there was a tiny sound that pierced the silence just long enough to pull Davy back into reality.

It was the sound of tiny twinkling bells.

“Mmmrph? What the—? Peter, man, where have you been? I’ve been trying to stay up waiting for you for like, _hours _, mate. What gives?” Davy’s diatribe was, thankfully, interrupted by a yawn.__

__Peter shifted uncomfortably. Not only was it hard for him to lie on the spot, but something small and creepy was tickling his foot. “I was just…walking? And I saw some trees, so I decided to climb them for a while. I saw an owl too.” Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie, but hopefully it worked. And for crying out loud, what was crawling up his leg?_ _

__Davy seemed skeptical for just the briefest moment, but the thing about Peter was that it was completely plausible that he would be distracted by a particularly inviting-looking tree for hours on end. It was like dealing with a giant five-year old at times._ _

__“Alright then, mate. Can you just, make an announcement or something next time? We get worried, Pete. Remember the time you followed the ice cream truck on its entire day’s route?”_ _

__Peter couldn’t help but smirk when he nodded. He certainly _did_ remember that day. What the others didn’t know was that he had spent that day floating stealthily in the sky above the truck, hiding in trees and on top of houses when it stopped. Now he knew the truck’s entire route and schedule, and would ask Mike for loose change before the truck’s jaunty little bell was even in hearing range by the beach. It was fun._ _

__Davy mumbled something incoherent as he curled into a sleepy ball on his bed, fully clothed and everything. Peter heaved a sigh of relief, but then he heard it again. The tiny bells._ _

__Peter lifted up the leg of his jeans. Nothing was there. But still, something was wrong._ _

__In the meager light of the lamp beside his bed, he could see that his shadow’s legs were gone from the knee down. He moved in one direction, and then another, but they still didn’t appear._ _

__It couldn’t have been her…_ _

__But who else could it be?_ _

__

__——————————————————————————————————————————————_ _

__Peter woke the next morning with a rumble in his stomach. He hadn’t eaten since before his visit to the redwoods the night before, and flying always burned a lot of the little calorie things that adults were so worried about. He wanted something more filling than Corn Flakes, but he doubted that there was anything more in the kitchen. Gigs had gotten so far and between that the boys were starting to live off of three meals of breakfast cereal._ _

__He stepped out of the bedroom, lazily scratching at the back of his neck. He made his way down the hallway when he saw the strange golden ribbon dangling from the ceiling. And then he saw the small orb of light flickering angrily as it tried to flutter away. It was stuck, and raging quite loudly in the fairy language, which to anyone but Peter would’ve sounded like a wind chime in the distance._ _

___You silly ass!_ the light squealed. _This is absolutely humiliating. You’re an absolute ass and so are your stupid new friends!__ _

__Peter gulped. There was only one fairy that had such an acidic tongue as that, and of course it had to be one of his closest companions. He panicked. “Okay, Tink. Calm down! I’ll try to get you out, but you have to tell me why you’re here, alright? Deal?”_ _

__The fairy squeaked in agreement, then went back to berating him as he pinched and pulled in an attempt to free her. It wasn’t working, and soon Peter’s hands were stuck his face._ _

__This was when Mike entered the hallway. Now, Peter had a way of getting himself into strange situations, but wrestling with flypaper that was stuck to his face was a whole new level of weird for the kid. Needless to say, Mike was unsure how to approach the situation before him._ _

__“Um, Peter? What exactly are you trying to do?”_ _

__Peter was in such a whirl of panic he didn’t even bother trying to lie. “Oh, Michael! My friend is stuck in this stuff and I can’t get her out and she keeps biting my thumbs! Help!”_ _

___Well, great,_ Mike thought to himself, _Peter’s befriending bugs now._ Peter was all out peace and love, but this was just ridiculous. Then he looked at Mike with two toffee-colored eyes on the brink of tears. Mike couldn’t make fun of Peter when he looked at him like that. It would be like kicking a puppy._ _

__Mike rolled his eyes, then set to work un-sticking his friend. It wasn’t as easy as he expected. Peter had really gotten himself wrapped up in the stuff._ _

__Finally, Peter was loose from the flypaper, carefully holding his bug friend in his hands. Mike figured it was a firefly, or maybe more than just one, given the light it was giving off. He had never seen fireflies glow in daylight, but Mike had seen a lot of stranger things since moving to California._ _

__Then the light started chirping at Peter._ _

__“No, Tink! You can’t bite Michael! He helped you out of that bug-catcher stuff, so even if he did tear your dress, you owe him a thank-you! Now, you said you’d tell me why you’re here, so spill it!”_ _

__Mike could feel his eyebrows raise in disbelief. Peter was talking…to a bug. And the bug was somehow talking back. Peter had once said that he could talk to animals, but Mike figured that was just a joke. Or an exaggeration. He sure wasn’t taking Peter seriously, in any case. Whatever the thing was saying, it was making Peter’s jaw drop._ _

__“Oh no. No no no. Tink, you better not be lying, or I’ll smack you flat! But how did the pirates even…Smee? He’s back? That can’t be possible. Where are the Lost Ones now?”_ _

__Peter seemed lost in his own world, and Mike wanted in. “Peter, what in blazes is going on between you and your firefly?”_ _

__Peter looked up, and Tink squeaked indignantly at being called a common firefly. His hand was shaking, but his lip was firm, his brown eyes filled with a fierceness that Mike couldn’t recall ever seeing before._ _

__“M-Michael, I have to go.” Peter turned immediately back to his room, but not before Mike could stop him._ _

__“Hold on, shotgun! You’re not going anywhere just because you think a firefly told you to.”_ _

__**“Stop calling her that!”** Mike stepped back. He had never heard that sort of fury coming out of Peter before. He was almost scared._ _

__Peter sighed, trying to recompose himself. He opened his hands, and said “Do you want to see a fairy, Michael?”_ _

__Mike was just about to say something condescending, but then he actually saw it. The little feminine silhouette, bathed in its own light and standing on Peter’s opened hands. Its eyes looked up sneeringly at him, and he could just make out a pair of fluttering wings thin as a spider web._ _

__There were few times Mike Nesmith found himself speechless, but this was the certainly the first time in a long time. After all, _he was looking at a fairy_._ _

__“Michael…” Peter hesitated, gathering his thoughts. “Michael, this is my friend Tinkerbell. Tinkerbell, this is my friend Michael. I think I have some explaining to do.”_ _

__But he couldn’t wait. Not if all that Tink had told him was true. Judging by the panic in her voice, and the distance she had to come to get here, he doubted it was a prank. He had to hurry. He thought quickly as he grasped Tinkerbell in his fists in front of his face._ _

__“Mike, remember when you thought you sold that song to some big record company? Before it all went wrong, do you remember how you felt?”_ _

__This made Michael somehow even more confused than he already was. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything right now, Pete, but…”_ _

__“We don’t have time! Just remember how you felt when you thought you had a big song happening!”_ _

__Mike paused, and Peter watched as his eyes brightened with the memory. “Gosh Pete, that was the happiest moment of my life.”_ _

__Perfect. Peter shook Tinkerbell over Mike’s head like she was one of Davy’s maracas._ _

__—————————————————————————————————————————————————  
So._ _

__This is what Mike knew for certain._ _

__One moment he was waxing nostalgic about one of the best moments of his life, and the next moment, he felt his head thumping against the ceiling, and Peter was tugging him by his sleeve out the window._ _

__The problem was that he had no idea how he had gotten airborne, or where they were going at such a speed. Peter had let go of him a while ago. Apparently he just assumed Mike would know how to keep himself in the air above the ocean. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too hard. Peter just kept asking him about birthday parties and Christmas presents, and after a while Michael caught on. All he had to do was think happy thoughts._ _

__Something about that sounded familiar._ _

__He was thinking happy thoughts. He was flying. There was a fairy taking shelter in his hat to keep herself from blowing away. This was all somehow connected to Peter._ _

__Peter…_ _

__Peter?_ _

__No. That was just a story. A fairy tale that his mother told him to get him to fall asleep._ _

__Right?_ _

__He was distracting himself, and he noticed he was sinking. He had to get back to happy thoughts or he would drown in what he guessed was Pacific Ocean waters. Even if he was just dreaming, he didn’t want the dream to have a sad, watery ending._ _

__He focused on memories of his first kiss, summer vacation, gorging himself on Halloween candy and the feeling of a new record in his hands._ _

__Peter stayed just ahead of him, not saying a word. At least not until they came upon that flock of seagulls. He couldn’t resist. They were always so fun to mess with._ _

__

__——————————————————————————————————————————————_ _

__Contrary to very popular belief, Neverland was not found at the “second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning.” That was just something Peter had told that one particular grown-up to keep him from asking further. And to keep his realm safe. Neverland’s location was a bit more complicated than that. Even Peter had difficulty wrapping his head around it. As Tinkerbell once tried to explain to him, Neverland was more a state of mind, reached only by attaining a certain childlike state of euphoria and untying oneself to the responsibilities and worries brought on by adulthood. Peter was able to understand this as simply thinking happy thoughts, and he couldn’t think of an easier way to untie oneself from responsibilities than simply flying away from them with the help of fairy dust._ _

__To Peter’s surprise, it didn’t take as long as he thought it would for Mike to reach the apex of childhood joy, and when he did Peter helped him to land softly on the warm and inviting shores of Neverland. Mike mumbled something about how he thought he was dreaming, but the feel of a fairy-sized nip on his ear let him know otherwise. They talked as Peter re-oriented himself to the island in search of the Lost Ones’ forest hideout. Peter felt like he was a rock star being interviewed._ _

__Yes, he was actually Peter Pan._ _

__Yes, this was really Neverland._ _

__Well, of course it isn’t just a story! They were both walking on solid ground, weren’t they?_ _

__No, it wasn’t all like the book. A lot of that was made up by that stupid grown-up. Same with the movie, which was also very stupid. They certainly didn’t sing about everything, and no one wore pajamas._ _

__Then came a question that Peter was dreading. He didn’t want to revisit the memories that came with it._ _

__“But Pete…er, Peter, the book and stuff is really all just made-up? How did that story get written anyway?”_ _

__Peter grimaced. He thought about that one grown-up. The one that trapped him using bits of cake on the windowsill as bait. He remembered the long hours trapped inside a cage (one that may have been a decent fit for a dog, but certainly not a healthy young boy), while the grown-up prodded him for information. He would write down whatever bits and pieces Peter could think to tell him, then he would poke Peter in the ribs for more. “Come on, you little twit! This story will make me huge! Just give me more!”_ _

__Peter had developed a profound distaste for cake since then._ _

__Peter didn’t want to explain this all to Mike, so he tried to summarize. “The book got written because grown-ups are awful, stupid liars. That’s all.” Hopefully that would be enough for Mike._ _

__It wasn’t._ _

__“Alright, Peter. But if grown-ups are so rotten, why did you stay with us in The Monkees? Aren’t we grown-ups?”_ _

__This actually made Peter giggle. “Of course you’re not grown-ups! Well, not really. I mean, you guys don’t have to wake up every morning and go to work, you don’t have to wear stupid stuffy suits all the time with your hair greased down, none of that stupid grown-up stuff. Anyway, what was going on in your part of your world looked like fun. Everyone was dressed funny and had their faces painted, sort of like the Lost Ones but different. It made Neverland seem pretty dull in comparison, so I decided to check it out. And think of all the adventures we’ve had together! Hasn’t it been fun?”_ _

__Mike didn’t think constantly being targeted by Russian spies and fighting alien invasions was all that enjoyable, but if Peter had gotten used to battling pirates and other sorts of evil-doers as a way of having fun, why would he be bothered by a few mafia lords here and there? And come to think of it, Peter was often the one to get into trouble in the first place. Could it have been because Peter was always searching for fun that he always got himself and the guys in such crazy situations?_ _

__Peter was lost in his own little world. “I just hope The Lost Ones haven’t forgotten about me yet. I mean, I was their chief for so long, but I don’t really know how long I’ve really been away from Neverland. I can lose track of time pretty easily…”_ _

__That was when, as if on cue, a small arrow flew through the air, slicing the pom-pom on Mike’s hat neatly in half. Another zipped just past Peter’s arm._ _

__Peter giggled, he actually _giggled_ at this. “Well, that answers that.”_ _

__Mike and Peter found themselves set upon by what appeared to be a small army. Literally, it was a small group of dirty-faced screaming children with wooden swords and bows and arrows. One of them apparently had a rope, and Michael could feel someone trying to lasso him like a rodeo bull. It was an embarrassing situation for Mike to find himself in, but the fact that Peter and Tinkerbell were suddenly nowhere to be seen made it all the more worse._ _

__Michael remembered the rooster crowing from the stories his mother read to him, and as he heard the sound echoing amongst the branches he felt a surge of confidence and relief. The children froze in their tracks, their eyes darting around them as if they were caught in the act of sneaking sweets before dinner._ _

__Peter settled to the ground, smiling mischievously with his hands behind his head as if he hadn’t a care in the world…which was something Mike resented as he tried to wiggle from the surprisingly well-tied knot around his wrists._ _

__“So…” Peter grinned as he addressed the awestruck swarm of children, “Who missed me?”_ _

__The first one to regain the power of speech had a pair of glasses that seemed to consist mostly of bits of twine and dried grass that held them together. “Peter?” He said, hesitantly. “What happened? You…you—”_ _

__“You grew up, Peter.” It was a statement from a small, almond-eyed girl with blue war paint stripes painted down her honey-brown cheek. Everyone could hear the throb of disappointment in her voice as she made her observation._ _

__Yes, girl. Her name was Poppy. The Lost “Boys” was one of the lies that a certain Englishman made for his book, because he didn’t think readers of his time would accept young girls fighting pirates with swords. But Peter knew better, he always did. Poppy was one of the fiercest cadets in The Lost Ones._ _

__Presently, Peter looked down at his feet. He had only just then realized that his head become further away from the ground. He had grown taller in the time he was away from Neverland, as was the norm everywhere other than his island. But he certainly hadn’t grown older. He knew that much._ _

__“Well, so I have. But that just makes me a more formidable opponent against our enemies, doesn’t it? And according to Tink, there’s some fighting to be done again around here.”_ _

__This made every child smile. This really was the Peter they adored, even if he was a bit bigger than the rest of them and dressed in jeans and an orange tunic shirt. There was still the issue of the monster to address, though. Tootles was ready to take care of that._ _

__“Peter, what should we do with the monster that was following you? Tinkerbell told us it was coming, and that’s why we tried to shoot it down. Should we kill it now? Is it eat-able?” Mike gulped. He hoped the kid didn’t mean him. He also really hoped that rifle in the kid’s hand was just a toy._ _

__Peter shoved a finger in Tootles’ face. “Tootles, you dummy! That’s no monster, that’s my friend Michael! He’s the smartest person I know, even if he is sort of a grown-up. You’re not to harm even a single thread on his hat, understand?”_ _

__Tootles’ brow furrowed in confusion. “But Peter! He looks just like the shadow monsters Smee has been sending after us!”_ _

__Peter could sense the fear that shuddered through each of the Lost Ones at the mention of the monsters. So this was why he had to come back. It seemed Smee had returned as well, and he was clearly up to no good._ _

__Peter’s back straightened. He had to get used to being a leader again. “Take me back to the hideout. Tell me about the monsters there.”_ _

__“Hey, Pete? I’m startin’ to lose feeling in my fingers, so if you don’t mind…”_ _

__Peter chuckled. “Oh, and untie Mike, will you?”_ _


	3. Chapter 3

Of all the lies the grown-ups would tell of Neverland, the way they described Smee was by far the worst. In fact, the lies were outright dangerous. Yes, Smee was rather frail and pathetic, but every pirate seemed weaker in the shadow of Captain Hook. The thing was, Smee was not stupid and don’t let anyone ever try to convince you otherwise. He couldn’t read and he didn’t know the capital of Portugal, but he was still clever in the way only a pirate needs to be. He wouldn’t have been Hook’s right-hand man otherwise.

After his captain had been…eliminated, Smee wandered the world in exile. When one wanders, one takes in all sorts of new things. When Smee wandered, he observed, and he learned. He learned the ways of shadow magic, from a dark woman in a long white dress deep in the swampy south of The United States. He had hopes of one day using such magic to his benefit.

He tapped the handle of his trusty Johnny Corkscrew as he caressed Tinkerbell’s latest acquirement between his fingers: a bit of Peter Pan’s very own shadow. It wasn’t much, but it would do.

He didn’t think it would be this easy…

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Tinkerbell had a small apartment carved into the wall of the Lost Ones’ underground hideaway. She took a lot of pride in her small abode, decorating it with bits of colored glass and the occasional fancy stamp that she stumbled upon. And ever since she entered her agreement with Smee, she had obtained a beautiful tiny ring box that was the perfect space for storing her clothing and shoes, tiny doll hats that were just her size, and a diamond ring that she decided would make a wonderful belt. All she had to do was gather up as much of the shadows of Peter’s new crew as she could, and since she was an ace at slipping about humans unnoticed and Peter’s new colleagues were fairly unobservant, it was an total snap. She had absolutely no idea what Smee was up to, but what could that scrawny lout do without his beloved captain to guide him? Perhaps he was making an odd little quilt.

Tinkerbell, you see, had heard the stories that grown-ups told. So impressed was she to be part of a fairy tale that she believed the stories to be true. Even the bits about Smee being an incompetent cad.

Such is the danger of the stories adults tell. Children will believe them, and fairies as well.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Night had fallen, but the hideout was bright as a midsummer afternoon with the glow of a warm fire. Peter sat cross-legged on the dirt floor of the Lost One’s hideout beneath the forest, Poppy sitting beside him. Tootles was preparing Peter’s all-out favorite dish for dinner, cream of root beer soup (which explained a whole heck of a lot for Mike). Mike was surrounded by a cloud of eager young music enthusiasts. The one named Curly had found an old guitar gathering dust in a corner, and Mike was showing the children how to make it come to life. It wasn’t completely in tune, but luckily Mike wasn’t performing to an audience that would notice. They clapped emphatically as he finished an acoustic rendition of “Papa Gene’s Blues”. Mike smiled. They were the best audience he had ever had, even if their average age was in the single digits.

A tree grew in the center of the hideout, keeping Mike and Peter out of each other’s view. If Mike could see Peter, he’d see that the blonde’s freckled face was uncharacteristically somber, to the point of grim. The more Poppy described the shadow monsters, the more worried Peter became.

“We don’t know how Smee found his way back to Neverland. But he’s got these shadow monsters with him now. He sends ‘em after us, Peter. It’s awful. Just these three dark shadows of grown-ups. There’s the scraggly shadow that looks like he’s got a hat like your friend, a little short one, and one with curls like…well, Curly. They got Slightly, the dolt. He thought since they were just shadows that he could take them on himself. We’ve no idea what happened to him after they dragged him away. We tried to follow his screams, but then the screams stopped. That’s why we sent Tink after you, Peter. We can’t do this alone.”

Peter folded his hands together under his chin, like he was in prayer. It was something he saw Mike do sometimes when he was deep in thought, and it somehow made him feel a bit better about things.

Curly hair. Short one. Hat. Smee had obviously conjured up shadow-things based on his new friends. How the pirate had done so wasn’t the main question in Peter’s mind: the top priority was how to defeat them. Slightly obviously had only acted like he knew what he was doing, but that always had been the boy’s modus operandi. It was bound to be his eventual undoing. How could Peter kill something that wasn’t really alive? What were shadows made of, anyway?

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

_The narrator of this story would like to briefly interrupt and answer that very question regarding the composition of a person’s shadow. It’s a very fascinating topic, and will become very relevant a bit later._

_Shadows are physical manifestations of our regrets, our worries, any of our not-so-good memories. Anything that follows us in the back of our minds, no matter how hard we try to shake them, becomes part of our shadows, literally the dark side to who we are. This is why children’s shadows are always so small and faint, while some older people have very heavy shadows dragging behind them._

_A very important aspect of the human shadow is its weight. The shadow of someone with few sad memories or a child with memories at all is very light, which is why it’s so easy for children to fly with the help of just a pinch of fairy dust. Adults, on the other hand, especially those who have experienced a lot of turmoil…well, their thoughts tend to hold them firmly to the ground. One wonders how Peter was able to get Michael airborne, given the latter’s difficult early years and tendency to worry over even very minute failures._

_Grown-ups will try and tell you about darkness and light, and the position of the sun and size of the person. This is, of course, because grown-ups don’t know the true reason for people’s shadows, and while the light-sun-size explanation works with other things’ shadows, the shadows of people are a different thing entirely._

_Please keep this in mind as you read on. It will explain a lot…_

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Peter excused himself to go above ground for some fresh air. At least, that’s what he told the Lost Ones. In all honesty, the hideout had been smaller than he had remembered it. Now that he had grown taller, he found that his head often bumped the ceiling and he couldn’t find a comfortable way to sit. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he fit in Neverland at all anymore.

The thought scared him, and he hated being scared. Before he left and became a Monkee, he wasn’t afraid of anything in Neverland, even the most gruesome pirate or the viciously territorial she-wolf that lived in the clearing near the little hut that was once Wendy’s.

Peter felt a pang in his chest. As much as he hated to admit such a weak feeling, he missed Wendy. He missed how she knew how to stitch his shadow back on tight and missed the sound of her voice as she sang lullabies to the Lost Ones at night. He missed the “thimbles” she’d sneak onto his cheek when no one was looking. She was the closest to a mother Peter had ever wanted.

Perhaps that’s why he didn’t think twice about bringing Michael along this time. He didn’t want to admit to this weakness either, but he wanted someone with him who was…older? More experienced? Michael made him feel secure in the grown-up world, where Peter was absolutely overwhelmed by adult things as seemingly simple as counting change and knowing when he could cross the street without getting hit by a car. He didn’t know what to expect when he returned to Neverland, so he wanted back-up. And who better than Michael?

Peter sighed deeply and slumped into the welcoming cradle of a tree’s roots. All his life he had been running away from growing up, from needing adults to tell him what to do. What a fat lot of good that seemed to do for him.

“You, uh…you alright, Shotgun?”

Peter glanced up. The hand on his shoulder was Mike’s. He smiled as convincingly as he could.

“I’m alright, Michael. I’ve just been…thinking.”

“Well, soup’s on if you’re interested. Y’know what? Your gang says they want to adopt me. Keep calling me ‘Papa’ and all. It’s pretty weird, to be honest.”

Peter smiled sadly at the irony. He gave the Lost Ones the chance to live in Neverland, with no grown-ups to dominate them, and yet they were always craving at least one parent. He had never had a mother or a father, so he had no idea what the fuss was all about.

**_HSSSSSSSSS…_**

It was like a rattlesnake had snuck up on Peter and Michael, but Peter knew snakes well enough to know they’d make some small sort of slithering noise. This hissing came out of nowhere.

**_HSSSSSSSSS…_**

Mike jumped. “Peter, what in the hell was that?” Peter couldn’t answer. His eyes darted across the forest, scanning every single leaf and blade of grass. There wasn’t a thing to be seen, until the moon shone on the ground at just the right angle to reveal a dark, wiry figure in the distance. It was a skinny child’s shadow, but the child themselves was nowhere to be seen.

Slightly’s shadow. It was moving on its own towards Peter and Michael, letting out that wretched loud hiss as it slid across the ground. Peter’s throat clenched shut in a panic. He had reacquainted himself with his cutlass since returning to the island. Now he grasped it in his fist, not exactly sure of what to do next.

Then again, he had always done his best work when acting on impulse.

Peter lunged forward, his cutlass piercing Slightly’s shadow. It tore through the shadow’s center but still Slightly’s shadow swung and angrily clawed at the air. The hole in its black chest twisted shut like it had never been there to begin with. Peter sliced and stabbed, but nothing could stop the shadow, and its skinny fingers were soon reaching for his throat.

Orange fire blazed past Peter’s head like a low-flying comet. A burning branch fell on Slightly’s shadow, and Peter watched with a dropped jaw as the figure flailed uncontrollably. Soon nothing remained but a burned stick where the outline of a child used to be.

Suddenly, Peter felt a darkness settle around him, and found himself wondering if he had tripped into a deep hole. All of a sudden, he was seeing things from a very small person’s perspective. There were nuns all around him, pushing him in all different directions and smacking his knuckles with a ruler when he fell asleep during lessons. It seemed that Peter was watching someone else’s life flash before his own eyes. It must have been Slightly’s. For someone so young, he had certainly been put through a lot before he made it to Neverland. The experience made Peter feel…heavy. Like there was a wire pulling him to the ground.

When his mind returned to Neverland, Peter looked behind him and saw Michael. His friend’s hand was shaking, but his mouth was a straight determined line. “I, uh…I made Nibs give me his matches after he tried to burn my hat, and…well.”

Well then. Bringing Mike along was apparently a _very_ good idea. But this problem wasn’t fully dealt with yet. Smee was still out there, with even more shadow monsters in tow. And he had just lost Slightly, one of his longest-serving cadets. He brought the Lost Ones to Neverland because in the world of adults, The Lost Ones were neglected and abused by grown-ups. But in Neverland they could fight back. And they would always win.

Peter was not about to let that change.

He needed a boat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of my Peter Pan/Monkees crossover fic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here there be much swashbuckling and angst.

Smee smiled to himself. He had sent out the first shadow bogey simply to scare that damnable Peter Pan. He knew it wasn’t as formidable as the others. But if he knew Peter Pan (and after years of dealing with the little prat, the pirate considered himself an expert on the boy), it would be enough to lure him towards Smee. And the fairy was just so easily distracted by shiny little baubles that she didn’t even question his motives.

Neverland was practically his.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Peter was actually quite pleased with the raft that they were able to get together in such a short period of time. Thankfully, the mermaids were able to help them when the planks started to crack and pull apart. The Lost Ones were outraged when the mermaids told Peter about the cave on the island where Smee was hiding out, as it was something they themselves had been trying to find on their own for ages. But Peter was always able to get information from the mermaids quite easily. It just took the right smile.

Mike found all these shifts in Peter’s personality quite fascinating. The guy he had previously considered to be a bit of a dim bulb really blossomed into a leader here. He wanted to ask Peter more about himself and his life in Neverland, but he had set his feet into the water and there was a very attractive giggly young thing trying to tickle his toes. It didn’t even phase Mike that she had a fish tail.

_**HSSSS…**_

_Oh no,_ Mike thought to himself. _Not here, man. Not while this girl is flirting with me and I haven’t really swam since gym class. Please no._

Mike’s silent prayer went unheeded. The shoddy little raft toppled over like it weighed nothing at all, and the mermaids dashed away to their grotto with only their own safety in mind. The shadow was nowhere to be seen, but there were now several tiny bodies thrashing in terror as the salty water filled their noses and stung their eyes.

Mike faintly heard Peter yelling from shore. “Come on, knuckleheads! You’re acting like the mermaids never taught you how to swim! Hurry up!”

Peter had a strange way of restoring morale among his troops, but it did work. The Lost Ones made their thrashing more productive, and landed heaving on a new shore. There was only one problem, and it was a rather big one. After the brush with Slightly’s shadow, Peter insisted that everyone arm themselves with whatever matches or candles they could find in the hideout. All of these aforementioned matches and candles were now floating away on the waves, drenched beyond usefulness even if the Lost Ones could manage to get back to them.

There was also the issue of the cutlass suddenly firmly pressed against Mike’s throat. Despite his sinewy build, Smee had gotten a decidedly unyielding grip on Mike’s mid-section as well. Mike tried to yell, but all he could manage was a bit of a choking noise.

“Right then,” Smee snarled, glaring a hole into each and every one of the Lost Ones. “Now that I’ve gotten hold of your worthless chaperone, what’ve you done with your chief? Where’s the Pan boy?”

Peter managed to keep calm on the outside, but inside, he was whooping with laughter. The Lost Ones stayed silent, because they knew exactly what was going on, and to make any move would be to spoil a very delicious surprise.

Peter had changed. And because of that, Smee could not recognize him.

Even though Peter Pan was standing right in front of him.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Tinkerbell sat on a small rock inside the stupid pirate’s cave hideaway, admiring her newly acquired cameo brooch. It could work as an art piece on the wall of her apartment. Yes. Very nice.

All of a sudden, she heard a cacophony of screams and hollers out on the beach. They were children’s screams. The only children in all of Neverland were—oh, dear.

Tinkerbell watched the four shadowy figures in the light of the pirate’s large candelabrum as they drifted past her and toward the chaos outside, hissing evilly as they went.

Oh no. All of that time she thought the pirate was the stupid one. Now she realized that she had been the idiot. She had to make this up to her dear Peter. Luckily, she knew just the way to do it.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

It had all dawned on Smee far too late. There was only one other inhabitant of Neverland who could wield a knife as well as his captain had. But that couldn’t be possible. That other inhabitant was small. He was a boy.

Smee wailed as he felt the fingers from his right hand snap and fall into the sand. His beloved Johnny Corkscrew fell to the ground with them. He was now unarmed and utterly defenseless. As his pain knocked him to his knees, the blonde newcomer grabbed him by what few hairs the old man had left on his head. The stranger held his knife to Smee’s throat with much more conviction than Smee had done to the man with the wool hat.

“Who are you?” Smee gasped. In truth, it was all coming together in his head. He was refusing to accept it.

The freckled one snarled. “I’m youth, I’m joy. I’m a little bird that has broken out of the egg. Sound familiar, little man?”

Smee groaned. He had indeed heard that declaration before. How could this have happened? It was supposed to be so easy. What had happened to the little Pan child? So many questions he knew would never be answered.

“And you, old man? You know what you are? Nothing. You were a nightmare once, something to haunt children late at night. But now, you’re nothing. And this time, I’m making sure of it.”

The Lost Ones cheered, but Mike felt sick as Peter’s knife effortlessly sliced through Smee’s throat. A shock of blood smeared across Peter’s tunic. But this wasn’t just Peter anymore. This was Peter Pan, and he had certainly done this kind of thing before. Mike could see in his eyes, the way he held himself. Mike remembered when they had been stranded in Mexico, and Peter handled a gun like an expert shooter. This present moment was very much like that.

_**HSSSSSSSS…**_

Peter’s head jerked upward, surveying the beach like a hawk. “We’re not done yet, cadets.” He said, quietly, almost as if he was saying it only to himself. “Not by a long shot.”

The shadow nearest Pete was Davy’s. He knew it wouldn’t do anything, but he stabbed down into his friend’s shadow, hoping that it would buy some time for him to think of a plan. It didn’t. Davy’s shadow split in half where Peter had sliced it, then seamlessly zipped back up like a child’s coat.

Then it hit him. Literally, the candelabrum smacked him the back of the head. The fire and light would help him, just like with Swiftly’s shadow. Or so he hoped.

He pulled one candle out of its holder and jabbed it straight into where the shadow’s face would’ve been. The sound was awful, shrill and frenzied. But, Davy’s shadow dissipated into a dark fog, and then nothingness.

Peter felt that hazy sensation again as the shadow faded around him. He saw Davy’s life, the hard English streets and the taunts from taller schoolmates. He felt even heavier than he did before, but he knew he had to carry on. The Lost Ones were still set on stabbing at the shadows of Micky and Michael and…himself. He felt that he had somehow brought this upon The Lost Ones by leaving Neverland unattended, so, while taking the candelabra into his sword-fighting hand, he decided to finish the job himself.

Offing Micky’s shadow was easier, but not by much. Peter was swamped with Micky’s memories of being forced to stand in classroom corners for not being able to sit still, and the muscleheads on the beach that would literally lift him into the air and dump him into a garbage can.

Two down, two left to go. Peter was struggling to keep his eyelids up, and his legs felt like they were solidifying cement, but he fought against the urge to fall over.

Michael’s shadow was somehow stronger than the others. The dark outline of his adult friend lifted Nibs into the air and heaved him face-first into the sand. Poppy jabbed her small sword over and over again, but each stab only briefly left a hole in Michael’s shadow. There was a stutter to its hiss now, which made it sound like…laughter. It was laughing at poor Poppy.

The candle in Peter’s hand was dripping fierce hot tallow onto his fingers, but the shadow had Poppy in a stranglehold now and he would not let another of his Lost Ones suffer, because of these monsters that had happened when he had abandoned them. No more.

He didn’t so much stab the shadow with the candle, but rather fell into it with the candle out in front of him. Poppy landed on his back as the shadow scattered into dark fog. He wondered if he would be filled with Mike’s memories as he had with Slightly, Davy and Micky. He breathed in deep, just wanting it all to be over.

He couldn’t move. Everything went black.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

_By now, he knew exactly what was happening; he was going to experience Michael’s memories, for better or for worse. As it turned out, most of Mike’s memories were of the worse variety._

_He saw the world through the eyes of a child who never had much of anything, let alone the small luxuries that sweeten childhood memories. He saw with the eyes of a child who was teased for having pants that had gotten too short and showed his socks. A child who watched as the most popular girl in his grade laughed and tore his handmade valentine card in half. A child who walled himself off in his room to keep from being further hurt. A child who held this all inside, and made himself grow up as quickly as possible to keep from being hurt._

_It was hurting him, what Peter was seeing. If Peter had only known about Mike earlier, he would’ve saved him. He would’ve taken him into Neverand and he would’ve never had to worry about growing up or bullies or money or paying bills or having a job or any of the things that gave him worries and sadness. This was hurting Peter just so much._

_Was this what dying felt like? He once thought dying would be an awfully big adventure. This was anything but an adventure. It was just…an end._

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

The Lost Ones had gathered around Michael and Poppy as they splashed water in Peter’s face, trying to wake him up. The children were all sobbing. Michael was fighting back tears of his own. He panicked when he saw Peter fall to the ground. Michael saw Peter’s own shadow hovering over the bassist, ready to attack. In his panicked mind, he decided to pull Tinkerbell out of the air and throw her like a fluorescent baseball into the center of Peter’s shadow. The fairy’s light shattered the darkness into a cloudburst that hung over the island for a short moment before settling on Mike.

Mike had seen Peter’s early life. He had seen the little blonde, toffee-eyed baby shivering in an alley, despite the layers of blankets in which he was bundled. He saw the twinkling fairy that had saved him from freezing to death by gathering him up in a web of light and carrying him away to Neverland. He had seen Peter saying goodbye to Wendy and the other Darling children, as they left Neverland and then later as they left the realm of mortality entirely. He saw the confusion of a man-child who had set out for an adventure in California and ended up hopelessly lost. But he did see friends. He saw adventures. He saw fear and confusion, but it was such a small amount of it. In truth, it made Mike feel jealous.

Peter choked and his eyes fluttered open. The Lost Ones cheered, and Michael almost wept out of sheer relief. He felt Peter tugging softly on his sleeve.

“Did…did we win?” Peter whispered. “Are they gone?” Michael responded with a nod. Peter turned and started making a tiny burping noise. At first Mike was worried, but then he realized…

Bless him, Peter was trying to do his stupid victory crow.

Mike felt around his ear for Tinkerbell, who he was pretty sure was trying to gnaw his earlobe off after the whole tossing incident. He held the fairy in one hand, close to his face.

“Miss Tinkerbell? I don’t…I don’t know what to do. Should we stay here?”

Tinkerbell looked from Mike to Peter, who tried to mischievously grin at her. The shadows had really gotten to the poor dear. He would be weighed down by so many of his friend’s sad memories that he would be barely able to get off the ground anymore, let alone zip from one end of Neverland to another. She set to devising a plan. This would be quite an undertaking, but it was all she could think of in such a pinch.

Tinkerbell flew high above Smee’s cave hideout, and shone as brightly as she could. It was the fairies’ way of summoning each other. She needed all of the fairies of Neverland, and she needed them as soon as possible.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

It had been exactly one week since Micky and Davy had lost half of their band. No note, no sign of where they had gone. Just…poof! They had practically vanished into thin air. The “Have You Seen Us?” flyers had produced no results, and the police saw their scruffy hair and kaftans and asked if their friends had spontaneously hitch-hiked. “That’s something you long-haired kids are into, yeah?” asked one officer.

Micky sat at the kitchen table clutching on to a coffee mug for dear life. Davy was so distressed he had actually taken up nail-biting. They either had two missing friends or two friends who wished not to be found. Neither man even bothered to consider the possibility that Mike and Peter were in trouble. That would be too much to mentally handle.

Micky glanced outside the window and noticed something in the night sky. “Hey Davy, is that a comet or a plane?”

Davy looked from his mangled cuticles. “I don’t know, mate. It’s mighty slow for a plane.”

“Yeah. It kind of looks like it’s falling, so maybe it’s just a shooting star?”

“Sounds right, yeah. Make a wish, Mick.”

It felt stupid, but Micky was willing to try anything at this point. He closed his eyes and wished with all his being that his friends would show up at the pad, or at least be safe wherever they had ended up.

As I’m sure you’ve already guessed, what Davy and Micky saw that night was not a comet, a plane nor a shooting star. In actuality, it was a large gathering of fairies who had manipulated their light and fairy dust into a net that carried two exhausted young men across the night sky…along with a few smaller passengers. Anyone who really took the time to look would see that.

Fortunately, no one really did.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“DAVY WAKE UP IT HAPPENED WAKE UP IT WORKED I GOT PETE AND MIKE BACK WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!”

Davy’s eyes opened to a very excited Micky jumping up and down on his bed. He blinked a few times, trying to process what Micky was hollering at him. “They’re back? How?”

“I MADE A WISH ON THE STAR LIKE YOU SAID AND WHEN I WOKE UP THIS MORNING THEY WERE BOTH HERE WAKE UP HURRY DAVY OH GOSH I’M SO EXCITED I’M GONNA BE SICK.”

Peter was curled up under a blanket on the sofa, so deeply asleep that even Micky’s excited chattering didn’t wake him. Mike was at the stove flipping an egg.

Now that Davy was awake, he was also angry. “Alright then, where have you two been? It’s been a week and we had no idea where the bloody heck either of you were!”

Mike paused. Had it really been that long? It all felt like one quick _whoosh_ to him. “Uh, sorry man. We got caught up with this…princess…spy…alien. Yeah man, she was a space princess and she was working as a double agent for her home planet. It was crazy. You want some eggs?”

Davy shrugged. Stranger things had probably happened to them. “Just wish you’d left a note or something. Could you scramble mine?”

Micky lingered over Peter, poking him in the side and not getting any reaction whatsoever. “Mike, is Pete okay? He seems pretty out of it.”

“He’s just really knocked out, Mick. Space princesses are a pretty wild trip, y’know? Leave him alone.” On the flight home, Tinkerbell had talked to Mike about the true content of shadows, and that so many negative memories would weigh Peter down to the point that he would most certainly never fly again. It would undoubtedly be both mentally and physically overwhelming for Peter, and Tinkerbell demanded that he get plenty of rest.

Peter had spent the entire trip with his head in Mike’s lap, drifting in and out of consciousness. Every so often he would start mumbling apologies to The Lost Ones, to Michael. He said more than once that he wished he could’ve saved Michael and taken him to Neverland, but Mike wasn’t completely sure what that meant.

But for now, all that mattered was that everyone was safe and accounted for.

Including The Lost Ones.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Poppy surveyed the beach that was now their kingdom. She had gotten a handful of sand nice and wet and kept her eye on the idiot weightlifter who was harassing Peter’s curly-haired friend. The mudball landed right in the middle of the bully’s face, and she was gone before either man noticed she was there.

The beach wasn’t exactly Neverland, but it was a fair substitute. There was water for playing and fishing, and enough large bits of driftwood and trees for hiding whenever grown-ups got too close. There was practically no need for their swords either, which made things sort of boring, but in a pragmatic sense it was nice. She and the other Lost Ones decided that they could make this work, and were already halfway done with their new hideout.

The best part was the night when it rained, and they all took shelter under the beach house. They looked up at the bottom of the house, wondering what Peter was doing with his grown-up friends. Without warning, Nibs decided to crow at the top of his lungs. Several hands clamped over his mouth in fear of what may happen.

First was the Englishman’s sleepy voice. “What gives? Have we got an infestation of roosters or something?”

They heard Peter! He said “It’s just a weird dream, Davy. Go back to sleep.” The Lost Ones relaxed, and let their hands fall from Nibs’ face. For a while, it was silent.

Then they jumped in surprise when Peter appeared dangling upside-down from the edge of the beach-house’s porch, looking right at them. He put a finger to his lips, whispered a crow call in reply, and then flipped back onto the porch and into the house.

Poppy always smiled at that memory. Despite all the things that had changed, peter hadn’t let go of the things he had loved before. Even though he had grown up, he would always be her beloved friend, Peter Pan.

Always.

**THE END**


End file.
